


Peace Lilies and the Perks of Being Good

by GaHoolianGirl



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Crowley does good deeds, Established Relationship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 04:33:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19191916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl
Summary: “I may have accidentally promised a young customer a houseplant to take care of. She’s a charming child, really, her parents frequent the shop...she asked about books on horticulture...her mother mentioned that she had her own little garden that she tends to oh so well, and I thought to mention that I had a friend who took care of the loveliest plants plants in London and-”Crowley held out a hand to silence Aziraphale, who gratefully took the opportunity to prevent any more nonsense from tumbling out of his mouth, “Let me get this straight, angel. You promised some random child one of my plants, without consulting me? Is that what you’re telling me?”Crowley gives a plant to a little girl and enjoys it. Simple as that.





	Peace Lilies and the Perks of Being Good

**Author's Note:**

> Good Omens is doing wonders for my writer's block, two fics in two days! This is just a silly idea I had, but I enjoyed writing it.

“Now that we have greater, how should I say it...‘freedom of expression’, would you allow me to make an observation?” Aziraphale asked, putting down his glass so he could clasp his hands together, as was his custom. A creature of habit he was. The two of them were enjoying a bottle of vintage wine in the back of his shop, as was routine these days.

They were both creatures of habit.

(They were one another’s habit)

A low hum that sounded somewhat like an affirmation arose from Crowley’s throat as he sipped from his glass. He knew what the other had to say, it had become a common topic of discussion these days, but it was a rare day that he denied the angel something.

“Well, you seem to be enjoying your new found freedom to express your kinder side, these days,” he smiled his usual smile, sincere as always, “Don’t try and deny it either, dear boy. I saw you give those children on the street corner some sweets.”

Crowley’s gut twisted on instinct at being told he had a “kinder side”. Every fiber of his demonic being wished to deny the claim, and in some ways it would be completely valid to do so. But of the instance in question...

“I was ruining their supper and encouraging cavities,” he said after swallowing his mouthful of wine, his voice laced with mirth. He did have a fondness for children. They were interesting little buggers, neither full of sin nor purity, even more so than adults. They were the blank canvases of humanity, “It was honestly despicable of me. One of my worst deeds yet.”

This amused Aziraphale, who stood up to grab a particularly ragged book on a nearby shelf. He ran his gentle fingers along the frayed spine, lovingly gazing at the tome, which very well could have been ancient, “Oh, then how horrible.Terribly dreadful. Just despicable of you,” a fond expression adorned his face his face, so bright that even with his sunglasses Crowley had to look away.

After putting the book down, the angel’s characteristic nervousness began to seep into his voice in movements, in such a way that the demon knew he was about to receive a request, “I would like to, ah, impose upon that kindness, if you’d hear me out.”

A deep sigh, “Hit me.”

“I may have accidentally promised a young customer a houseplant to take care of. She’s a charming child, really, her parents frequent the shop...she asked about books on horticulture...her mother mentioned that she had her own little garden she tends to oh so well, and I thought to mention that I had a friend who took care of the loveliest plants plants in London and-”

Crowley held out a hand to silence Aziraphale, who gratefully took the opportunity to prevent any more nonsense from tumbling out of his mouth, “Let me get this straight, angel. You promised some random child one of my plants, without consulting me? Is that what you’re telling me?”

The other nodded shamefully.

“You just assumed I’d go along with it?”

“No, I did not assume, I just thought I might _ask_ , I did not give her any definites that it would be one of yours, I just accidentally...implied it might be, is all. Very different than a promise. Very.”

“We both know that isn’t true, angel,” Crowley chugged the last of his wine, resting his glass down forcefully enough to be heard but soft enough that it did not qualify as a slam, “When did you, imply, that she’d receive this gift?”

“Saturday.”

So four days from now? After squeezing his temples with two fingers, Crowley stood, rolling his shoulders superfluously, “Give me her name.”

“Ah! Elizabeth.”

With nary another word, the demon sauntered out of the store, leaving behind an angel who was equally baffled as he was pleased.

It was not a rare day.

* * *

 The moment he swung open the door to his flat, he could immediately hear a frightened rustle of leaves, and he grinned wide. Aziraphale often suggested he take a more “gentle” approach to plant parenting, but even a human-and-angel-loving demon had to draw the line somewhere. He turned the corner, and cast a stern gaze at the quivering flora.

“To attention, you lot! The best of you is going to be relocated on a very critical mission. The selection process is going to be very _thorough_ and _intense_ , do not disappoint me. You know how I feel about failure.”

His small green army stood perfectly still, curious, nervous, and terrified all at once.

Exactly what he wanted.

* * *

 After three days of unrelenting care and attention under Crowley’s eyes, there was a victor. It was a close race, but like all good stories, the one who was triumphant was the underdog, in this case, a moderately sized Peace Lily he had only recently obtained. It barely wavered in the face of his tirades, and it’s leaves were vibrant and resilient. Perfect.

“Now listen close, you little twat. You’re going to be passed off to a human girl by the name of Elizabeth. This is a one time deal, if I hear you aren’t up to snuff, there will be severe consequences!”

Only a little wiggle. Crowley grinned, this soldier was more than ready for duty.

* * *

 Later that afternoon, Crowley confidently sauntered into the bookshop, holding a meticulously potted plant in one hand, and a bag full of fertilizer, one of his personal spritz bottles, and other various accessories to ensure proper care for Queenie (he’s chosen the name as a reference to his favorite human band, and to compliment the name of the girl it was being gifted to).

“Ah, Crowley!” Aziraphale wandered over from his desk, positively beaming, “I knew you would come through, dear. In all honesty, I’m a touch surprised you went to this extent,” he gestured to the bag, “Though I won’t say I’m not grateful, why, she’ll be positively chuffed!”

He looked away, not fully able to accept the praise. He sorted through every excuse he had, that this plant was a reject who was so bad it didn’t even deserve the chipper, that it was a poison ivy plant, that he miracled it to give anyone who touched it severe pollen allergies, but in the end, all he could muster was a soft, “You’re welcome.”

That seemed to be the right answer, as Aziraphale rested a gentle hand on his forearm, and the touch sent a pleasant warmth through his body. While he still preferred his, ugh, “good deeds” to be accomplished surreptitiously, or at least only for his angel’s eyes, he could get used to it if it pleased Aziraphale this much.

His train of thought was broken by the jingle of the door’s bell, followed by a high pitched shriek, “Is that a Peace Lily!?!?!”

Turning his head, Crowley was greeted by the sight of a young girl, about twelve years of age, who was bouncing up and down in glee. “It’s so gorgeous! I’ve never seen one so healthy!”

One of the women who accompanied her in looked apologetic, “She’s been determined to be a horticulturist since she was six years old, so she gets easily excited by a well kept plant,” she ruffled Elizabeth’s hair, “I’d say she knows about as much as any expert you could find. Thank you so much for this, Mister...”

“Crowley,” he said, without nearly the sharpness or bite he intended.

“Mr. Crowley. My wife and I can’t ever seem to find anything that’s up to her standards, so we couldn’t be more grateful.”

The other woman smiled, looking over at Aziraphale, “Of course, with all the praise Mr.Fell heaped on his ‘friend’, we had very high expectations.”

Aziraphale looked away, and any lingering shades of regret Crowley had slowly evaporated.

“Well I hope this old fellow is up to snuff,” he said proudly, squatting down his he was eye level with Elizabeth, “I’ve taken to calling it Queenie. You could rename it, but I’d reckon it might not like that. They get rather attached to their names, you see.”

She tenderly took the pot, and the bag once it had been offered, suddenly too shy to look him in the eye. Well, considering the sunglasses, she probably couldn’t find anywhere  _to_ look.

Reasonable.

“I’d tell you what you need to do to take care of it, but you probably know more than me, I’m certain.”

There was no hiding the smile on her face, and she nodded furiously, “I love Peace Lilies! Did you know that they’re not actually lilies, but rather a member of the Araceae family?”

Of course he did. In fact, he was there when they were first categorized.

“No I did not! They’re pretty deceptive. I dunno if I trust such a dishonest plant.”

Her little chest puffed out, and she lifted her head haughtily, “Well I think it’s the people who are the problem, making assumptions like that. The flower did nothing wrong.”

He rather liked this child, he was certain.

“Not just a horticulturist, but a philosopher as well, are you? I think you ought to save some smarts for us adults.”

It may have been a little too angelic of him to say, but the laughter of a child wasn’t to bad of a sound.

After making sure she had everything she needed and her mothers did a few moments of browsing, the family departed with a wave, and a loud promise from Elizabeth to keep Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley up to date on Queenie’s progress.

Once they were for certain out of earshot, Crowley immediately told Aziraphale to shut up.

“I didn’t say a thing!”

“I know what you want to say,” he grit his teeth, but then released then tension in his body through a long breath, “And so I’m not going to give you the pleasure of saying it first. Yes, I enjoyed that, yes, it was nice, yes, I am going to give her advice, and yes, I will only give her _good_ advice.”

“Well, you are correct that it would have given me great pleasure to say,” Aziraphale’s tone was full of a mix of pride, smugness, warmth, and love.

He was lucky that those were fourth things that Crowley loved about him.

“Do you have any more of that wine from last night? I think I’m in desperate need.”

He received a smile, “Why yes, I do. I suppose I might as well close up early, as I do believe you have earned yourself a _reward_ ," the angel's tone was full of promise as he walked over to flip the "Open" sign to it's negative.

 _Being good_ , Crowley thought, _has its perks_.•

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you thought!
> 
> Also, heres where I got my info on the Peace Lily: https://www.proflowers.com/blog/peace-lily-care


End file.
